


Laundry Day

by USDA_unofficial



Category: Goofus and Gallant (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USDA_unofficial/pseuds/USDA_unofficial
Summary: Things could go one of two ways, depending on whose turn it is to fold the wash...





	Laundry Day

**Panel one:**

Gallant, stout and handsome, dumps the laundry from the dryer unit into a basket and makes for the bedroom where his podcast is playing. Upending the basket on he bed, he methodically begins working through the pile, sorting his socks, shirts, and underwear from Goofus's. Some of their clothing is similar enough to pose a challenge, and he wonders for a moment whose green shirt he's holding until he sees the tags cut off. Smiling, he sorts it into Goofus's pile.

The pants, however, offer no challenge, though they both wear white jodhpurs and have thighs of almost identical sizes.

When he arrives home, Goofus dismounts his horse and leaves it unhitched outside the side door.

"Is that you?" Gallant asks when he hears the door close from across the house.

"Hey," Goofus calls back. "Anybody home?"

"I'm here. Folding laundry. Hey, could I ask a favor of you?"

Goofus shrugs. He knows Gallant will know he acquiesced, even though two walls stand between them.

"When you're throwing your laundry in, could you put your pants back rightside out? It'll save us both a lot of work when we're folding," Gallant calls. "Plus, they don't get very clean when they're inside out in the washer, or very dry in the dryer."

Goofus reaches into the icebox and removes a tamarind. After a drawn-out bite into the frozen fruit, he calls back. "Sure." 

"Thanks, hon." He turns off the light and shuts the door to the bedroom. His podcast is over and he's excited to see his husband.

 

**Panel two:**

Gallant, standing at his desk at the graham cracker factory. His phone buzzes softly. A text from Goofus:

_glad we're not being traced by the zucc now!!_

_Yes, well, I liked Facebook messenger_

_yeah but mark could read our sexts._

_We don't sext._

_not.....yet_

_fucc the zucc_

_How's your day going?_

_ok do you wanna try sexting?_

_I'm literally at work and I'm still mad at you_

_if she wanted to be "our" horse, she wouldn't've wandered off!!!_

_i'm saying_

_damn daddi_

_It took forever to get to work this morning._

_And I have a meeting in like a quarter of an hour_

_ey bebby u can say 15 minutes is ok_

_hey_

_do u wanna_

_sext_

_it might make u_

_feel good_

_I'm at work!_

_hot_

_No!!_

_okay well you don't have to do anything_

_don't respond if u don't wanna_

_but i'm just thinking of a scenario_

_so you're at work_

_it's a long day, your boss is breathing down your ass about_

_i dunno, graham cracker sales_

_or whatever_

_you're tired_

_you come home_

_it's a long ride home_

_you're beat, you get home, and you're just...you're beat_

_and kinda pissed_

_like...you're riled_

_like you didn't realize it before but_

_you wanna get rough_

_you need to get rough_

_and you walk into the bedroom_

_because you're hard now_

_you can feel it_

_and you want to do something about it_

_I don't work in sales._

_and then you see me_

_OOHHHHH MYYYY GODDDD_

_don't fuck with the rhythm!!!_

_MY IAMBS!!!!!_

_bitch_

_(Sorry, keep going)_

_hehehe ur reading now?_

_thought you didn't wanna sext_

_I'm in the bathroom. I have this meeting in like 5 min._

_Hurry up_

_HELL. YAH._

_good._

_so you come in, you're hard and you're riled_

_and i'm there_

_i'm folding laundry_

_naked_

_i'm facing away from you_

_bent over the bed_

_ass in the air_

_and you just...want it_

_gotta have it_

_need it_

_u slide out of your pants_

_take off your shirt_

_all quiet_

_as can be_

_and then_

_you press up against me_

_..._

_..._

_AND?_

_I have to go work!_

_and?_

_i turn around and show you two balled up, still slightly wet socks and tell you that this shit's unacceptable and you need to unbunch your socks before throwing them in because that shit's gross and i hate unballing them and it's not my job._

_punk._

_Ahahahaha_

_i'm glad you liked that_

_but seriously_

_straighten out your fuccin socks_

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

The horse, quickly turned feral, lived three more years. Its ghost was never found.


End file.
